On the morning of April 2d, 1865, we heard heavy cannonading in
front. We began marching at eleven o’clock, and when we had gone six
miles we came in range of the enemy’s heavy batteries and ironclad
gunboats, which lay at Tennsas Bay. We advanced at two p. m., under
a heavy rain of shot and shell. We moved up and formed in line of
battle with a loss of one man in Company E killed.
We now formed our lines around Fort Blakely, one of the strong
defenses of Mobile. Our troops were stationed under a heavy artillery
fire from forts and gunboats, on the lines as follows: Our colored
division was placed on the right (several of them were going to the
rear with bloody heads) next to the bay; our division commanded by C.
C. Andrews, came in next on the line; and Osterhos, Carr, and Veach
were to our left.
We were furnished with shovels and soon went down into the earth like
moles. The laziest man that lives will work under circumstances like
these. The rebel forts mounted some very large Brooks rifles, which
threw thirty-two to one hundred eighty-four pound shots. They also
had three ironclad gunboats.
Our force, which was commanded by General Granger, was at Fort
Spanish, seven miles to our left. There had been fighting there for
several days. We could hear our fleet bombarding at night. The jar
from the heavy guns almost shook the ground. But we also had plenty
here to draw our attention.
April 3d, 1865, we strengthened our earthworks all along the line.
Our artillery was not in position yet, but our sharpshooters kept up
a lively racket. A continual roar was still kept up by our gunboats
and heavy guns at Fort Spanish. Colonel Spicely and three out of our
regiment were wounded that day. This was the first time since we had
left Pensacola that we drew full rations.
On the 4th we heard heavy fighting at Fort Spanish. Our land forces
were making it hot for them and charging was going on. We could hear
them cheering all around their lines.
On the 5th there was sharp fighting all along our lines. Two men
were killed and one wounded in our regiment. We tried to advance our
rifle pits. At night our company moved forward one hundred yards to
establish a new line.
On the morning of the 6th our batteries being in position, opened on
the rebels. They did not reply for some time, but when they did let
loose it was a sight. The air was full of iron and one could see the
dirt and limbs of trees flying in all directions. There was a solid
crash and roar from the big guns on the rebel forts.
On the 7th, at four a. m., our company took position in the advance
pits. We were advancing our works well. I was one of the three
vedettes who were stationed in the extreme advance, two hundred yards
from the fort and eighty yards from the rebel sharpshooters. During
the day five bullets cut the sod above the loop hole through which
we were shooting, but we escaped their deadly message. After dark we
crawled out and advanced fifty yards and established other pits. But
we discovered just now that we were running into a nest of torpedoes,
and they were dangerous things to dig around.
We were relieved at nine p. m. At twelve our artillery opened all
along the line, and the rebels soon replied. The two artilleries had
quite a duel.
On the morning of the 8th there was a general engagement all around
the line. Some heavy shells which were thrown by the rebels’ gunboat
fell in the rear of our rifle pits. They went ten feet into the
ground and exploded, throwing up a cloud of dust and leaving quite
a hole in the ground. We had a simple recruit in our company by the
name of Murray. He jumped out of our pit and stepped up to the edge
of the hole.
Captain Taylor called out, “Murray, get down from there! You will get
your fool head blowed off.”
He answered. “Guess not. Captain; they can’t hit that hole again.”
But several more shots were put in too close to feel comfortable.
Four of our thirty-two pound Parrot guns, manned by the Twenty-first
Indiana, had an hour’s engagement with two rebel gunboats. One of
the boats was disabled and drew off down the bay. The other one took
warning and did not stay long. Our regiment began digging quarters
pits and received marching orders to go to Fort Spanish, but they
were countered. We then lay in the pits all night and supported the
Pioneers.
An assault was made on Fort Spanish at six o’clock in the
evening. A desperate struggle, which lasted four hours, followed.
General Granger’s brave boys then charged over the rebels’ strong
fortifications and captured seven hundred prisoners and one hundred
heavy guns. This put a damper on the rebel army at Blakely.
April 9th, 1865, everything was quiet in the fort. Some rumors were
going that the rebels were evacuating the fort. At three o’clock all
of us fell in line and moved into our advance rifle pit. The colored
troops made a charge on our right, and the rebels opened concentrated
fire on them. They were repulsed with heavy slaughter. They fell
back to a deep hollow and were not able to make a second attack.
Our skirmish line was ordered to charge all along our lines at five
o’clock. We had to go two hundred fifty yards, through three picket
fences and over hundreds of torpedoes, to gain their main forts.
I was on the skirmish line, and looking back, I saw our entire
force coming, everyone trying to get across that field of death and
destruction.
At first many brave comrades planted their colors on the rebel
fortifications, to pitch over into the rifle pits, with a bullet
crashing through their heads. Scores were blown out of existence by
torpedoes. The air was full of cannister and minnie balls, but the
work was short and decisive. As soon as the rebels found out that
nothing would stop our determined assault they hoisted up white flags
all along the line. But it was not before they were covered with the
blood of brave boys who were shot and had fallen over into the pits
on them.
This charge had lasted about fifty minutes. The rebel troops in front
of the colored troops surrendered to our division, for they knew that
the negroes would not show them any quarters, as they came up with
the shout of “Fort Pillow,” and they continued to shoot at the rebels
even after they raised the white flags.
The loss in our division was four hundred killed and wounded. The
loss in our regiment was fifteen. Captain Merchant of Company G fell
dead on the field. Colonel Spicely’s horse was blown up by a torpedo.
We captured four thousand prisoners and one hundred heavy Brooks’
cannon. Three thousand of the rebel troops had made their escape
on trees felled across the swamp to the Sand Battery. It was about
sunset when we got into the fort.
Three rebel ironclads were lying out in the bay, awaiting a barge
load of marines who had been in the rifle pits. George Williamson,
of our company, wheeled a little brass gun into position and fired a
shell over the marines. It bursted forty feet too high, but it had
the effect all the same. They came back to shore faster than they had
gone out, with white flags fluttering in the air. The gunboats moved
on down the bay towards the sand batteries.
Our regiment moved down and took charge of the commissaries, which
were well supplied. Two old messmates, Clark and Tolliver and I saw
the upper room lighted up. We went upstairs, and it proved to be the
officers’ dining room. A colonel, for supper.
The table was the best supplied one that we had seen for months.
There was chicken and other good things too numerous to mention.
Clark called out, “Hello, rebs! Thanks for your good supper. We are
in need of something of that sort after a hard day’s work. Get out of
here!”
They pleaded for more time but had to be contented to go with a
piece in hand. Two of our soldiers came in and wanted the honor of
capturing some officers. We turned the officers over to them and took
our places at the table. We enjoyed as good a meal as we had eaten
for months.
As I passed out and downstairs, I picked up a caddy of old Virginia
tobacco to divide up with the boys at a dollar a plug.
The Sixteenth corps charged on our left. Their loss was not as heavy
as ours. Several of them were blown up by torpedoes at night. On the
morning of the 10th we marched out to where our quarters were on the
line. We passed over that ragged battle field, and a rebel major and
a squad of prisoners were raising torpedoes. They were as thick as
pumpkins on new ground. They exploded several by means of a battery.
There were long rows of them which were fastened together by wires.
Heavy bombarding was going at the sand batteries, which is about half
way between Forts Blakely and Spanish. On the 11th we had general
inspection. Heavy clouds of smoke were seen in the direction of
Mobile. Much was going on at that place. The rebels evacuated the
sand batteries and Mobile at eleven a. m., leaving all of their heavy
guns and monitors of war in our possession.
We received marching orders at five p. m. and marched all night.
After traveling a distance of thirteen miles we reached the landing
below Fort Spanish. All was quiet now, except the cheering that went
on over our great victories. Our recruiting officers returned and
we got the news that Richmond had fallen into our possession April
2d, 1865, and the Stars and Stripes now waved over the southern
Confederacy.
We lay here until the 14th of April, when we marched back to Blakely.
On our way back we met some prisoners whom we had taken at Blakely.
We went into camp inside the fort at two o’clock. On the evening
of the 15th we had general inspection. Heavy details were at work,
getting up all of the artillery and small arms which we had captured.
Sunday, the 16th, church was held throughout our entire army, and
many prayers went up to God for his kindness in saving so many of our
lives through the past butchery and hell.
On the 17th a national salute was fired over the success of our
armies in the surrender of Forts Spanish, Blakely, Tracy, and Huger,
which placed Mobile in our possession. We had also received the
news of General Lee’s surrender. He surrendered to General Grant,
April 9th, 1865 (the same time at which we captured Fort Blakely) at
Appomattox Court House, in Virginia.
On the 19th one of our boys in Company G stepped on a torpedo, just
outside of camp, and was blown up in the air fifteen feet. One leg
was blown off, his ribs mashed in, and one arm shattered to the
shoulder.
On the morning of the 20th we marched on board a boat and ran six
miles down the bay to Mobile. We saw several torpedoes explode in the
bay, throwing the water fifty feet high. We had several torpedo rakes
at work knocking them off. The “St. Mary” had been blown up at the
mouth of the pass which is known as Grant’s Pass. These monsters of
destruction were planted all over the bay.
Our department was commanded by General E. S. Canby. The surrender of
the defenses around Mobile were the last hard battles of the great
Civil war.
On the evening of the 21st we went up above the city and anchored in
the mouth of the Mobile river. At this place we first heard the news
of the assassination of our beloved president, Abraham Lincoln. His
life was taken by John Wilkes Booth, at Ford’s theater, on the night
of April 14th, 1865. This sad news put a damper over our army. Our
flags were all dropped to half-mast, and many of the boys shed tears
and were mourning. These same boys had shouted themselves hoarse a
few days before over our great victories, which aided in putting down
the rebellion, for we well knew that peace was near at hand. The
chief cornerstone of our American government had now been stilled for
all time by the hands of a wicked assassin.
Two of our gunboats and thirteen transports, loaded with troops,
had gathered at this place. On the morning of the 22d we pulled up
the river to the mouth of the Tombigbee river, to await the arrival
of the remainder of our fleet. Here we found one of our gunboats,
lying on guard duty. During the day several flat boats loaded with
citizens passed us on the way back to Mobile.
On the morning of the 23d we hoisted anchor and ran on up the Alabama
river to Chocktaw Bluffs, which was sixty miles away. The rebels had
had this place fortified, but had gone, leaving two heavy guns on the
fort.
On the morning of the 24th we started on up the river and landed at
Clayburn, sixty miles distant, at four p. m. We found some of our
cavalry here, who had been left as safeguards. Three heavy guns had
been planted at this place. We landed and the boys soon brought in
plenty of pork and chickens for supper.
On the morning of the 25th we moved on up the river at six a. m.
After we had gone seventy miles we anchored at nine o’clock. This
is a beautiful country and has very large plantations. The colored
troops got off of the boats here and marched through by land.
On the 26th we ran along by the side of the “Mustang” and drew
rations, as this was a commissary boat. We passed Mattee’s landing at
nine o’clock and Prairie Bluff at ten. We captured a flat boat, which
was loaded with rebel supplies, and was trying to get away from our
cavalry. Our advance boat was fired into by a squad of guerrillas and
one man was killed. We landed, got off of the boats and found where
their horses had just been fed, but now they were fleeing for safer
quarters. We burned all of the buildings on several plantations.
We got on the boats and moved on up the river. Many dead rebel
soldiers and horses floated past us during the day. They had been
drowned at the time of Wilson’s raid. We landed at ten o’clock at
night.
On the morning of the 27th we passed Cahawba, where we took three
of our men from the rebels, who they had made prisoners. Some of
the citizens of this place cheered our brave boys while they played
national airs. We landed at Selma at two o’clock. We went into camp
on the river bank opposite the town. This is a beautiful little town,
situated on the bank of the Alabama river. The surrounding country is
also very beautiful.
The boys went out and soon returned with plenty of good things to
eat. We lay here until the morning of the 28th. We then broke camp,
crossed the river and marched through the town. We went into camp
near the rebel fortifications, which General Wilson’s cavalry had
charged and captured a few days before. They had blown up the arsenal
and burned many stores. They then continued on their raid, and went
in the direction of Montgomery, the capital of the state. This was
called Wilson’s Raid.
There had been strong fortifications around this arsenal, as we could
see. Many heavy guns and hundreds of pounds of ammunition had been
turned out of this arsenal. Many of the citizens were now coming in
and taking the oath of allegiance to our government.
April 29th we sent a force out on a scout to look for rebels. They
found several paroled prisoners whom Wilson had captured. April
30th we were mustered for eight months’ pay. In the evening a small
force of rebels came in bearing a flag of truce. They were bringing
provisions to their sick and wounded in the hospitals here. We were
busy all day cleaning and straightening up our quarters.
May 3d, 1865, a general order was read at dress parade. It was as
follows: “There will be a cessation of hostilities until further
orders, by order of General E. S. Canby, commander of the Department
of the Gulf, and there will be forty-eight hours’ notice given before
going into hostilities again.”
On the 5th of May an official report said: “There will be no more
fighting done east of the Mississippi.” That day cheering and music
were kept up throughout our camps.
Dick Taylor had surrendered the last armed force east of the
Mississippi to General E. S. Canby at Demopolis on the Tombigbee
river. On the morning of the 6th a train of cars came in from
Demopolis. This was the first train that we had seen for a long time.
After this two trains ran each day.
On the morning of the 7th the prisoners who had been captured at
Blakely came into camp and we gave them a good, square meal. They
started on their way home, rejoicing. They claimed that we treated
them better than the old southern planters, in dividing rations.
General Kirby Smith, with his command, skipped out for Mexico to join
the French army, which was at war with Mexico. May 8th we had grand
review by General C. C. Armstrong, the commander of our division.